


Chopper Doo and the Mystery Mansion

by comatoseroses



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comatoseroses/pseuds/comatoseroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under hire by an infamous and eccentric former mob boss, Investigations Incorporated takes on their biggest and creepiest mystery to date: exploring the unexplained happenings of the Thousand Sunny Mansion. On a dark and stormy night. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
<p>(AKA, the Scooby-Doo Gang style AU that you possibly never wanted, in which nothing goes smoothly at all.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chopper Doo and the Mystery Mansion

The name of their detective group typically depended on who could answer the phone at the moment it rang. It ranged from 'Detectives With A Shitty Van' to 'Usopp's One-Hundred Percent Successful Investigation Service' to 'If You Don't Have Money, Hang Up Now,' and was even on occasion thought to be 'Give Me The Damn Phone, NOW.' That last one, perhaps, was more accidental than anything, but it hadn't failed to get them the job. Their original name, the one that was nearly never heard anymore, was actually just 'Investigations, Incorporated.' Only one member ever seemed to say that when they answered, and they answered very rarely, as it was more fun to watch everyone else squabble.

At some point over time it had also been decided that whoever answered got to claim to be the founder- decided meaning Nami had said so, and even back when there were only three members involved, nobody was suicidal enough to disagree. Not that she would have paid any mind to Usopp or to a talking reindeer as it was; they both appeared to her on the same intelligence level, being that they had none. Besides, she was the financial backbone of their little piddle of an agency- if not for her they'd be solving mysteries for free, which meant no money for food, or for gas, or for a place to live (because there was no way in hell she'd be living in the piece of crap Usopp called a van).

And, well, Usopp figured that it didn't really matter if he was the initial founder at the end of the day. He was quite pleased to continue living, thank you very much, because Nami would sooner sell poor Chopper than feed him in his stead.

As a group of three, they managed to get a grand total of two cases under their belt: the first of which gained them the Going Mystery Machine as a token of gratitude. Though it would have been obvious to anybody really, that it had been the butler in the library with his lucky shanking knives. Usopp had been sure to lecture the mansion's admittedly cute owner about the importance of background checks, then, and so they were given wheels.

The second was a case that Nami and Chopper counted as including a fourth member, but he refused to see it like that because it would knock down their original case number. Not to mention he'd never really wanted Sanji to join in the first place, the mushroom-pushing bastard. But once they'd revealed that the person scaring customers away from the Baratie was none other than the owner himself, in an attempt to 'help' Sanji make the decision to leave, well...he never really could say no to a guy who was crying, and Sanji was good at cooking and fighting, and he would have come anyway because of his very sudden and passionate love for Nami.

If it hadn't been suicidal to say no to Nami before, it had become so with a swiftness that belied all logic. Usopp had the hospital bills to prove it. And somehow, even though Usopp had been the founder, Chopper was the vice-president and Nami raked in the dough, Sanji had become the forcibly undisputed leader. It was either his impressive strategic skills or his ridiculously powerful kicks that led to this: and you see, Usopp still had those hospital bills.

They'd been content to travel as a group of four for a while after that, until the librarian came along. Her name was Robin and she'd been one of the main suspects in the case immediately prior, and both Usopp and Chopper were against her joining as well. Even if she had been proven innocent, she still knew all kinds of creepy facts and they never knew what she was thinking.

But she was wearing an orange mini-skirt and had produced a membership fee out of nowhere, and there was no stopping Sanji or Nami then. Luckily, she'd become a valuable asset to the team as time went by, more often than not being the one to unravel the motives and history of suspects at the end of the day. Also, she gave Chopper treats and let Usopp do the dramatic reveal nine times out of ten. With a fifth member in tow, potential others magically seemed to disappear and they continued as they were for a good long while.

Unaware, all of them, of exactly how screwed up their newest case was going to be.

****

It began on a dark and ominous night- as often such events did- on a narrow road winding up a steep hill and leading to a massive mansion. The mansion, as one could probably guess, was also very ominous. Silhouetted against the full moon, large, ancient and intimidating as it was, it looked for all the world capable of playing host to any number of dark and gruesome beings.

Twenty-something rooms, fourteen and a half baths, a basement and an attic full of them.

“It isn't in ideal shape,” the real-estate agent had said unrepentantly. “But the fact that it's even still standing shows a lot of potential.”

Which it did, in his personal opinion. Of course “isn't in ideal shape” was quite the understatement. Simply put? Place was falling apart.

But since when had former mob boss, filthy rich and all-around manly man Franky been the kind of guy to run from a fixer-upper? Not just any, but the famous (or perhaps infamous) Thousand Sunny Mansion- a decades old, looming mass of architectural genius that had fallen into a state of unforgivable disrepair, the fixer-upper of a lifetime. Even he, who had ducked out of the carpentry business years ago, hadn't been able to just leave it as it was.

And, well, he couldn't find it in him to be afraid of the fact that the mansion's three prior owners had disappeared into thin air shortly after purchasing it. That was the kind of thing that happened to little guys with loads of cash- and he was definitely far from being a little guy, so no worries.

Through this series of events, he found himself in the middle of the heady task of painting the third hallway on the left side of the second floor of the mansion- it was going to be a strong shade of blue. Good masculine color, that. With his talent and resources, the place would be as good as new- hell, maybe even better than new- by the time he was done.

It was as he was dipping the brush in the paint once again, careful as he ever was in matters of interior decorating, that he first heard the faint tapping noise. In itself, that wasn't so much surprising or intimidating. Lot of things got knocked around, in big old houses like this, with weather so testy; even things that sounded an awful lot like footsteps. And, uh, loud pained moans from the first floor. Wait, was that music?

That just had to be his imagination. He was pretty sure that thunderstorms didn't sound like violins.

What the hell was with this place?

As he removed his sunglasses (ever too cool to go without them for long), intent on making a more thorough investigation, he turned only to find himself face to face with a green-haired man he'd never met. Franky blinked, raised an eyebrow at the unnecessary-seeming swords and offered a grunt of semi-greeting. The man blinked back; looked over the paint job thus far, seemed to struggle with something internally and then fixed a scowl over his face.

“If you're selling something, I don't want it. So get out when you're done here.”

And he was gone just as suddenly as he'd come, leaving Franky to wonder if the encounter had even happened.

This was definitely not a super situation.

Deciding that random green-haired men who could've been ghosts wandering around his new home was something he was against, Franky pondered what to do. Wasn't there supposed to be some kind of detective crew around here, one that occasionally dealt with mystery ghosts?

Might be wise to give them a call then.

****

The morning began as any other in what Usopp referred to as the 'Dwelling of Justice' (more commonly known as their headquarters, which was more commonly known as his apartment). He had been sleeping, blissfully separated from the troubles of life, in the early dawn hours. The violent stormy weather of the previous night settled into a light rain. Chopper had woken up and made himself breakfast already, negating Usopp's theory that anyone would need to feed him if the worst should happen, and the neighbors above had finally stopped moving their furniture around. He'd heard the phone ringing, but it had been answered by someone after two rings (could have been anybody, really, they used the place like it was theirs), so he didn't mind.

The most peace he'd gotten in days.

Karma, of course, had to balance this out with a wake-up call from Nami, who kicked in the door with a strength that Sanji would be proud of. She was known, on occasion, to be kind about such morning rituals- like when Usopp and Chopper had gotten back from the emergency room and veterinarian respectively, after the great debacle that had been the infamous Baseball Diamond Incident.

However, neither of them were currently injured, one was already up, and the scent of payment hung thick in the air.

She pulled his blanket off, sending him to the floor with an unsettling (for anyone but Usopp) thud, and planted a foot on the side of his face. Why, why in God's name had he given her a key? Was he really that stupid?

“Time to get up, moron,” she said with a razor-sharp grin. “We've got a case today.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered, already hating the look in her eye.

It took a good twenty minutes for Sanji to show up, where Robin's appearance had been prompt and polite; twenty minutes he could have been sleeping through, which had him decidedly settled on a foul mood once they'd both arrived. And he'd also deciphered Nami's expression into the one she wore when she knew he was going to hate the case beyond all reason. Something supernatural, then. Joy of joys. He wondered where he'd put that old garlic necklace of his...

“You called, Nami-swan-?”

The front door fell in, followed by Usopp's very undignified squawk and Chopper's panicked dash to hide behind a kitchen chair- not that he did a very good job of it. And there Sanji stood, radiating mindless devotion, unfairly splinter-free and risking staining the carpet with sappy pink hearts. Oh, and had he forgotten the fact that Sanji stood on the remains of his now-shattered front door? In retaliation, Usopp hefted a nearby coaster (nothing like good, weighty ceramic) and hurled it at the ever-deserving face.

“I GAVE YOU A KEY FOR A REASON, JACKASS!”

“Jackass!” Chopper added, chucking a tissue box. Both were miserably disappointed when their projectiles were deflected by Sanji's feet and sent back to them.

Usopp, while rummaging about for ice to put over his bruised forehead, decided that he didn't really need a front door, anyway. Better for keeping up a breeze. He crossed back over into the living room, attempting to radiate some kind of menacing, super-pissy air, and threw himself onto the couch with a huff. Nami, ever sensitive, rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and got straight to the point.

“We've been invited to investigate the Thousand Sunny Mansion.” After a few moments of letting this news soak in, but not long enough for two certain members to make known their loud girlish squeals of fear, she continued. “For Cutty 'Franky' Flam.”

Even Sanji had the decency to choke a little bit at that. “Wait, you mean the mob-boss?”

“The former mob-boss,” she corrected, leaning back in her seat with no small amount of satisfaction.

“Well, isn't that intriguing,” Robin said, looking a bit cheerier than she had a moment ago. “I assume it's paying well if you're willing to overlook that, Miss Benefactor.”

“Very well,” came the pleased response.

“Hold on, you mean you said yes?” Usopp demanded incredulously. “You said we'd investigate the scariest mansion in the world for the guy who-who cuts off toes?”

“Toes?!” Chopper asked, wide-eyed. “Would he really do that?”

“Of course he would! He's probably got some kind of horrible torture room hidden in there, so he can take us out one at a time so that nobody can uncover the secret of his hidden treasure-”

“Wah! I don't want to lose my toes!”

Nami resolved the matter swiftly in movements too quick for the naked eye to follow; they were left semi-conscious and apologizing for getting carried away like that. “He is not going to take us out in his torture room,” she snarled, “and he's not going to cut off anyone's toes. Besides, Chopper, you don't even have toes. And nobody is going to talk like that around him, got it? I'm not losing money because you guys were too stupid to be polite to a customer!”

“Of course, Nami,” they muttered, inching away from her.

“So why are we investigating there, Nami-san?” Sanji asked, all seriousness as he lit a cigarette and directed the topic back on track.

She made sure she was staring directly at Usopp during her next statement. “He thinks he's seeing ghosts,” she said simply. “The ghosts of the missing owners.”

It had the desired effect and Usopp wilted where he sat. “I should have just answered the phone myself,” he moaned miserably, placing a shaking arm over his eyes for dramatic emphasis. “And I could have told him we weren't interested.”

“And you would get evicted because of all the backed-up rent you've still got to pay.”

“Not to mention you'll be needing a repairman for your door,” Robin pointed out helpfully. Usopp contemplated throwing another coaster at Sanji. His forehead throbbed and he decided against it.

Sanji looked to the side, glaring a little. “Wouldn't have broken the shitty door if I knew he had rent backed up,” he muttered with a little huff. He delivered a swift kick to the aforementioned man's head. “How about you tell me next time, dumbass?”

“Not if you're gonna kick me in the head for it.”

Nami ignored the unsurprisingly short scuffle following this and continued planning the best way to go about it. “I couldn't find any blueprints, so we'll have to get a feel for it on our own, if Mr. Franky doesn't have any.”

“S-so when we go in you won't know the way back out?” Chopper asked nervously, still fearing for his nonexistent toes.

She found it within her heart to smile. “Don't worry; I'm sure it's not as scary as it sounds. And those ghosts might even just be his imagination.”

“You mean he's crazy,” Usopp grumbled. “We're either walking around a scary mansion with a total psycho or we're walking around a haunted mansion with...with a regular psycho.”

Her hand found the back of his head with painfully familiar ease. “Just get the car keys, idiot!”

****

Chopper could already tell that this was going to be a strange case. It wasn't the fact that they were, according to Usopp, now in cahoots with the mob. It wasn't the stormy weather that Nami hadn't been able to predict. It wasn't even the fact that they'd passed a hitch-hiker wearing a panda suit.

He didn't like the creepy trees, or the narrow road leading up to the mansion, and he didn't like that no one knew what had happened to the first owners of said mansion. Overall he wasn't entirely sure what was strange about it- but that didn't mean it wouldn't get worse. He wondered if Robin had brought him any treats.

A finger poked the back of his head and he jumped up with a squeak, looking back at Robin's smiling face. “You look so serious, Mister Reindeer,” she said, reaching up to straighten her glasses. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“I'm fine! N-not that I care if you're concerned, you stupid idiot!” Chopper professed in obvious joy.

“Oi, who's a stupid idiot?!” It was divine intervention in the form of Usopp's unsuspecting face that kept Chopper safe from the wrath of Sanji's foot- though how he was flexible enough to kick a reindeer in the back while driving was another mystery they'd yet to solve.

Having taken the punishment in stride, Usopp held up a quivering finger from the van's floor. “I don't feel well,” he volunteered loudly.

Nami snorted. “Another case of 'can't-investigate-haunted-mansions' disease?” She guessed flatly.

“Actually, I went to the doctor and it turns out I have this allergy...”

“Well get over it, long-nose.” His offended “hey!” went ignored. “Just think of this as...a vaccination.” That in itself spoke volumes about how much such a job had to be paying, as she was often known to exhibit symptoms of the same aversion.

“You can't vaccinate for allergies,” Chopper pointed out.

“That's not the point! We're nearly there anyways, so it's too late to go back.”

As Usopp muttered some kind of grudging surrender, Chopper turned wide eyes to his roommate of sorts. “I thought you said it was never too late to go back!”

“I said it's never too late to run,” Usopp stressed. “After all, running is how I uncovered the identity of the ghost of the Little Garden Museum.”

“You tripped on your own flashlight and accidentally pulled down the chandelier,” Sanji corrected briskly.

“It was planned, I tell you! And it worked perfectly, while some of us were pinned down by wax figures on the other side of the building...”

Never quite above rising to the bait, Sanji prepared to to leave the driving up to Nami-san while he had it out with a certain shithead in the backseat. At that moment, however, the Going Mystery Machine lurched, spluttered, wheezed and came to a halt with an impressive screeching of tires. Sanji swore, turned the key backwards and forward again, and listened as the engine started up without a hitch. He shrugged.

Usopp, meanwhile, smacked him across the back of the head. “What the hell do you think you're doing to my van?! It's a delicate piece of machinery!”

“It's a piece of shit,” he retorted- but he was careful as he hit the gas nonetheless.

“Wait!” Nami shouted, throwing out an arm for emphasis. Well, being that Sanji was at the wheel, the van came to another immediate and rough halt. Usopp wailed in sympathy and was promptly left ignored. Nami rolled down her window, stuck her head outside, and squinted at a nearby mailbox. Pulling her head back in, she gave the others a quick thumbs-up. “We're here.”

Sanji was the first to spring into action. “You're so perceptive, Nami-san~!” He sang. Tightening the lucky ascot he'd stolen from his former employer, he returned the gesture and faced the back seat. “Right! Let's solve this shitty mystery, gang!”

“Gang? This has nothing to do with gangs! We're assisting the mafia!” Usopp shrieked.

Robin chuckled, already preparing to climb out. “Maybe they'll owe us a favor, then,” she said.

“Don't be foolish! The great Detective Usopp is already owed many favors! One more wouldn't flatter me into silence!”

“At the very least, you should think twice before shouting about our illegal ties, no?”

Usopp saw the wisdom in this and promptly shut his mouth.

Even the Thousand Sunny's front door was ominous and looming, it turned out- though perhaps Usopp saw it as more so due to the fact that his own had been decimated. If it had been made like this one even Sanji, backed by the power of love, would have had trouble breaking in. As it was, the initial hesitance may have started with him, but it managed to manifest and spread to each of his companions until it saw the five of them halted on the front steps, staring up at their latest endeavor to come.

“Big place,” Sanji offered noncommittally, clearly already wondering if smoking was allowed on the premises. Usopp, Nami and Chopper replied with simultaneous squeaks of agreement and resumed staring.

“We're hardly likely to solve the mystery if we remain outside,” Robin pointed out simply, stepping forward and opening the door. It was as she was stepping inside that her path was impeded by...a large, half-naked, blue-haired man with a greeting in mind.

“You're here! That's...” And at this point he struck a rather dramatic pose. “SUUUUUUPER!”

While the detectives had certainly seen more...alarming states of undress upon their arrival, this pose and ear-splitting shout were still something of a shock; and so no one was quite sure what to think at the point where Robin proceeded to walk into him. On later dates, Sanji would weep bitter tears over failing to warn, catch or take the hit for his beloved ex-librarian. For the moment, he froze in the middle of lighting a cigarette until his brain felt up to the task of processing whatever the fuck he was seeing.

The collision was impressive, sending them both sprawling across the entryway floor without their token eye-wear. This being against the very laws of nature, both immediately threw dramatic arms across their faces and shuffled around looking for the items in question.

“Hey, what's the idea, bastards? Franky never loses his shades!” The man complained loudly, apparently suspecting a conspiracy. He straightened back up and glared at them through his newly found spectacles. Or he tried to glare at them, but in the end he ended up squinting at them instead. “Eh?”

“I would have quite the trouble seeing without my glasses,” Robin murmured, far too collected to show more obvious signs of displeasure, as ever. When her fingers closed around a set of frames, she immediately put them on...and found she could see nothing. “Such a dark home,” came the highly amused observation. “Or perhaps I've just gone blind...?”

Sanji unfroze with a half-strangled sob, throwing his arms in the air in a fit of melodrama. “R-Robin-chan shouldn't joke about such things! My passionate heart would be unable to bear the tragedy such a scene would provide, my tears would endlessly flow at the thought of such a beautiful lady unable to turn her loving gaze upon me!”

“Oi oi, don't you think you're overreacting?” Usopp asked flatly, watching Robin and Franky realize their error and exchange frames again with a chuckle.

“There is no overreacting when it comes to true love!” The ex-chef gushed, too caught up in the moment to unleash his proper kicking fury. Chopper sidled just a little closer to the sanity that was Nami, watching her watch Franky watch them with no small amount of interest. It was perhaps not the best first impression to be made- Robin making comments on the tomb-like feel of the foyer and Usopp finally succeeding in provoking Sanji into bickering: the fact that he himself was a talking reindeer in a hat was not taken into consideration in this, no less. At his side, Nami massaged her temples. The mob-boss stared them all down with an air that could only be described as 'utterly unimpressed.'

“You're really...the detectives?” He asked skeptically.

Nami smirked. “Sometimes it surprises us, too. Investigations, Incorporated, at your service.”

“Okay. But-” the man was silent for another few seconds, turning his gaze to Chopper intently- “you can't bring your dog in here.”

“I'M A REINDEER, ASSHOLE!”

\---

“There are three places I need investigated,” Franky stated simply, spreading the house blueprints out on a nearby table for them all to crowd around. “The kitchen,” he began, indicating the room with a massive finger. “Been hearing weird noises outta there at night. I laid traps but they haven't caught anything.”

“What kind of traps?” Sanji asked interestedly. “Think it might be some shitty mice or something?”

“Thought it might be. I put out mouse traps, cages for raccoons, couple of bear traps-”

“That's a bit much!” Usopp and Nami hissed in unison, only to have their exclamation left unacknowledged.

“Someone's gotta look into the basement, too,” and the finger shifted over the paper once more. “Music comes out of that place all the time and I don't have a radio. The last place is this hallway, where I saw that swordsman. There are a few rooms attached to it, so he could be hiding in there somewhere.”

“What, were you too scared to look through them on your own?” Usopp muttered sullenly, crossing his arms. Their host gave him a retaliatory yank on the nose, which was greeted in turn by a loud squawk, which was then cut off by the intervening foot of Sanji.

“Paws off the Longnose,” he said firmly while Usopp rubbed his sore face with some small amount of gratitude. “He owes Nami-san money.”

Well, whatever helped keep his nose on straight.

While this exchange took place, Nami and Robin took up leaning over the table, the former muttering to herself a little while she made mental notes of the layout. A complicated house by all means, but nothing that couldn't be traversed with the right amount of effort, Nami figured with satisfaction. They'd probably be done by sunrise. She shared this conclusion with her only true friend in this band of idiots.

By the time they glanced up again, their...unique set of companions had formed something of a pile on the floor, from which many obscene gestures and questionable phrases emerged.

“It's so nice to see that we're all getting along,” Robin said with a light grin a few moments later, tilting her head to the side to better observe the carnage left behind by Miss Benefactor. “But we might do well to split into groups for the search effort.”

“You're right, Robin-chan,” Sanji muttered, his tone all business. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. Usopp, Chopper- you're checking out the kitchen. If you break anything, you'll be eating through a tube.”

“H-hey, how come we have to check the place with the creepy undead moaning?” Usopp stopped at that point and considered the chances of getting what he wanted by being straightforward. He didn't like them. “Besides, aren't you the ex-chef? I thought you'd wanna look at the kitchen, since Chopper and I really don't know how to appreciate one.”

“Ah- I guess you could always track down the guy with the swords, or go beneath the shitty mansion to look in a dark basement for ghostly music, if you're so sure.”

... _Damn_ it. Usopp raised his hands immediately, all nervous laughter and practiced denial. "No, no, no need to switch things up! I- I mean, as the respected leader, it's my job to take on the creepiest rooms and the kitchen is definitely that room! One hundred percent! You guys go ahead and relax and take on the small fries!" 

Chopper perked up at this, where he had been formerly alternating staring at Usopp and Sanji with growing apprehension. That strange feeling about the night... neither of them were helping it at all. But if he was with Usopp, he was sure everything would turn out all right. "Y-yeah! You can count on us, Sanji!" 

Sanji could only be described as utterly unimpressed. But, however roundabout, followed orders were followed orders. "Perverted speedo."

"Yo." 

"You and Robin-chan can investigate the basement together. You're probably using it for a lot of storage, right? You'll know if something's out of place." It was about the best they could hope for. His next order was very nearly a casual afterthought by the sound of it: anybody who'd known him longer than a day, of course, would understand the pure ice-cold threat lurking beneath the surface. "If anything happens to her, I'm holding you personally responsible." 

Franky nodded seriously, reaching up to adjust his shades. "Ehh, you're not too bad at strategizing there, Spiral--" 

"AND NAMI-SAN AND I WILL GO INVESTIGATE THE HALLS TOGETHER! I'm haunted by your beauty already, Nami-san!" Easy come, easy go. So very easy, apparently. Usopp and Franky took immediate offense. 

"YOU JUST ASSIGNED OUR TEAMS WITH THAT IN MIND, DIDN'T YOU, BASTARD?"

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. I am really unsure if this is going to be continued or not, since it's something that's been hovering on my computer for what must be two years now, but I finally made the decision to dust it off and actually put it out there. Though I make no profit from this endeavor and own nothing, I had a real blast writing it! Thanks for reading.


End file.
